


From the City to the Ocean

by trying_to_spell_both_our_names_at_once



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Azula & Zuko (Avatar) Have a Good Relationship, But they have hints of it, Cultural Differences, Ember Island (Avatar), Gaang (Avatar) as Family, Gen, He's especially bad in this story, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insanity, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Selkie Zuko, Selkies, The Gaang Learns How Zuko Got The Scar (Avatar), Ursa (Avatar) is a Good Parent, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, Zuko's Scar (Avatar), but that's not the focus, in some ways, not really - Freeform, sorta?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27257281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trying_to_spell_both_our_names_at_once/pseuds/trying_to_spell_both_our_names_at_once
Summary: “What are those?”“These,” Mother said, and Zuko noticed her voice was shaking, as if she was about to cry. “Are our pelts.”...Zuko, Azula, and Ursa are Selkies. It changes everything and nothing at all.
Relationships: Azula & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 348
Collections: avatar tingz





	1. Between the waves, ragin fire

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [lock away a coat, lock away a soul](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27146447) by [chlodobird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chlodobird/pseuds/chlodobird). 



> Hey! I got this idea after reading chlodobird's Selkie Zuko story and just had to write it. I love Selkie's and as soon as I read their story I just had to write this down. It's an absolutely lovely story where Ursa takes Azula when she leaves and I would totally recommend reading it.

Zuko first learned he was a selkie when he was six years old. 

Mother had marched Azula and him into his father’s royal chambers right after lunch, Azula bounding over to Father immediately while Zuko stayed beside Mother, unsure of why the sudden family meeting was being held. 

They really only spent time together as a family at dinner. At any other point Zuko and Azula were busy with school and training, and their parents with their respective jobs. Being all together during the day was a bit unsettling for Zuko, but Azula didn’t seem to care that much, proudly telling Father how she had mastered her last Kata. 

“Very good Azula,” Father said, warmth in his voice that was never there whenever he addressed Zuko. “Your Mother and I have some very important things to tell you about.”

Father didn’t move from his desk, nodding at the cabinet to the side of the room. Mother gently squeezed Zuko’s shoulder before leaving his side, walking towards the cabinet. Zuko mourns the loss of her by his side, but stands tall while waiting for her to get back. 

“Are either of you aware of what Selkie’s are?” Father asks them in a bored voice. Zuko had never heard of them before. 

“Ty Lee told me about them a couple of weeks ago,” Azula replied. “They are seals who can shed their skin and turn into humans.”

“Good job Azula,” Father praised, and Azula preened, shooting a smug glance over at Zuko, who frowned at her. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know anything about those stupid creatures. 

Mother carefully pulled out three pieces of fur from the cabinet, holding them with shaking hands. 

Something inside Zuko tugged, a part deep inside of him suddenly aching and souring with familiarity. He felt drawn towards the smooth pelt of fur, his very soul singing to it. Zuko found himself reaching out towards it without realizing, although he snatched his hand back as soon as noticed. Looking over at Azula, she seemed to be having the same response, eyes wide and childish as she stared in wonder. 

“What are those?” Zuko spoke up, eyes instantly drawn back towards the fur. 

“These,” Mother said, and Zuko noticed her voice was shaking, as if she was about to cry. He stepped closer to her, suddenly worried. Mother didn’t seem to notice, her eyes glued to the fur. “Are our pelts.”

“Our pelts?” Azula repeated with a frown. Zuko felt the same confusion. “What do you mean?” 

“Your Mother comes from a family of Selkie’s,” Father said, and he spit the word, causing both mother and Zuko to flinch. “She is one, and so are you. Those are your pelts, which allows you to change between forms.”

Zuko stared transfixed at the one in the middle. Somehow he just knew it was his. He felt it through his skin, the humming in his bones that whispered to him. 

“When Selkie’s take on their human form, they are left with their pelt’s. When they wish to return back to a seal, they simply wrap it around them and enter the water to change,” Mother told them gently. “They are a large part of a Selkie’s nature and being, a special and unique part of themselves that is vital to keep safe and secure.”

Zuko wonders why they were locked up if that was the case. If they were so special, and he could feel that they were deep inside his gut, then why were they here? Why didn’t they have them on them at all times? Shouldn’t they be with them? In their rooms maybe? 

“Why are they in here?” Azula echoed his thoughts. Zuko turned to his Father, whose face darkened considerably. He curled into himself slightly, already knowing what that face meant. 

“Because to be a disgusting half breed like you are is a disgrace to the royal family's name,” Father said harshly, and Zuko resisted the urge to flinch. His wrists were still sore from the burns Father issued a few days ago. “I did not raise my children to be slaves to the whims of the ocean. Ridiculous isn’t it? Firebenders being connected to the ocean? If I had known your mothers’ disorder from the start, I would have demanded a more suitable bride.” 

Mother ducked her head, her face red with shame and Zuko wanted to go over and hold her hand, to show her that she wasn’t alone. How dare Father say those things about her? It wasn’t her fault. 

“But as it stands I cannot change what you are. But it is important to me that the two of you grow up with the knowledge of this weakness so that you can battle it. Your Selkie statice is a privilege, your other form is a luxury I will only allow you to have a few times,” Father sweeps his eyes over them all. “Understand that if any of you step a toe out of line, this privilege will be taken away swiftly.”

They all stood in silence, their Father’s threat hanging over them. Mother’s hands curled over the pelts, fingers digging into them with a stormy look on her face. Azula showed no emotion, only nodding slightly to show her understanding. Zuko wasn’t sure what to think, what to feel. 

In the span of only a few minutes, he had discovered an entirely new part of himself. It felt like something inside of him was unlocked, a part deep inside of him that smiled. Seeing his pelt, hearing of this news of what a Selkie was, it felt like a puzzle piece clicking into him, it felt good. It felt like how his Mother’s arms wrapping around him felt. 

“I will allow you three an hour to discuss and come to terms with this news. Then I expect all three to be placed back in that cabinet and all of you returning to your planned schedule,” Father declared, standing up. “Understood?”

“Yes Father,” Azula said instantly, respectfully bowing her head. Zuko did the same, and Father nodded before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him. 

“Do you want to hold them?” Mother asked gently, and Zuko nodded, scrambling to get closer. Azula did the same. Mother handed Zuko his first, and just as he felt when first seeing it, everything snapped into place. 

It was soft, softer than anything Zuko had ever felt before. Grey and spotted, he stared at it with wide eyes. Before this moment, he wasn’t even aware of its existence, but looking at it now, holding it, he felt like this was some long-lost piece of him finally coming home. 

“Come sit with me,” Mother said, cradling her own pelt. “I’ll tell you our story.”

For once not even Azula protested the order, the three of them sitting on the grounds, their pelts clutched firmly between their fingers. 

Mother sat and told them their story, their family history, the meaning of what it was like to be a Selkie, the lore behind their family. Zuko and Azula sat transfixed, alternating between staring at her and just gazing down at the pelt, curling their fingers in the soft skin and feeling at home. 

“I need you two to understand one thing,” Mother whispered near the end of their time. Zuko and Azula leaned in, both eager to hear anything Mother wanted to say. “This pelt is a part of you just like your arms and legs are. It is a physical representation of your soul, your other form. Your Father, well, to put it bluntly, he owns it. I need you both to promise to never risk your pelts, to never step out of line when they are at risk. I cannot explain to you what it feels like to lose your pelt, to have it taken away from you forever. Can you both promise me that? That you’ll never let him destroy your pelts?

“Of course,” Azula said, smirking as if the idea was ridiculous. For her it probably was. Zuko doesn’t think she had ever stepped a foot out of line. 

“Zuko?” Mother prompted, and her face looked pained, like she knew something he didn’t. 

“I will,” Zuko agreed, dropping his eyes from her back to his fur. 

He knew he’d do anything to protect it. To keep it as close to him as possible. He wonders what swimming feels like, what it’s like to be in his other form. He brushes his fingers through the fur and breaths lighter, smiling up at Mother, who gives him a sad smile back. 

Once their hour was up, Mother pried it from both their fingers and shakily locked it back up. It felt like Zuko was tearing off his own limb and shoving it away. For the rest of the day he was restless and irritable, his hands already missing the smooth texture of fur between his fingers.

_______________________________________________

Trips to Ember Island quickly became Zuko’s favourite thing to do. 

As soon as Father told them about their heritage, he had taken to incorporating their pelts into his everyday robes. The three of their pelts were made into accessories, proudly displayed and shown on Father’s arms. It made Zuko sick to look at sometimes, and being around Father was unbearable with the constant pull towards his fur. 

But that meant that whenever they were near the ocean, their pelts weren’t far behind. 

Mother always had to beg him to let them go, but Father always gave in at the end, handing over their pelts and giving them strict instructions and where they could and could not go and how long they were allowed to stay in the water. 

He was always irritable afterwards, snapping and crueler than normal. But the swim was always worth it. 

Zuko thinks that he was meant to be in the water. Every time the three of them wrap their pelts around them and slip in between the waves Zuko feels at home. His sealskin wrapped warmly around him, whiskers on his cheek and blubber lining his body. Swimming feels more natural than firebending sometimes, and diving under the waves and feeling the sting of saltwater in his eyes does nothing except make him smile. 

Being in this form was a rare luxury, their trips to Ember Island not that often and the times when Father was in a good enough mood to grant them their pelt’s even rarer. But whenever it happened, Zuko never took it for granted. 

Swimming was probably the only thing keeping Azula’s fragile relationship with Zuko and their Mother alive. On land she was cruel and mean, often burning and tormenting Zuko for no reason and making his life horrid. She would often clash with Mother, calling her names and never listening to what she says. 

But in the water, all of that was forgotten. Azula swam beside them, jumping over waves and playfully smacking Zuko whenever she could. The two of them would race through the sea, trying their best to go faster than the other and twirling and dancing in the current. Down in the water they weren’t rivals, simply two siblings enjoying what little time they had in the water together. 

When they finally emerged Azula and him would grin at each other, an easy understanding between them. They might not get along that well, but this? Swimming? The ocean? It was something they would always agree on. 

Mother would always look lighter whenever she emerged from the water, smiling easier, and even doing her best to be patient and kind to Azula. Her laugh came more often too, the lines around her eyes easing. Under the water things made sense, they clicked. There was no need to worry about being perfect, no need to fear punishment for not being good enough. 

The water understood. The ocean would always be home. 

_______________________________________________

If never had any doubts about how much his Father loved him, they would be gone now. 

Zuko was a fuck up. Possibly the largest one in the Royal family’s existence. And his Father punished him accordingly. 

When Zuko woke up on the ship, the first thing he realized wasn’t that half his face was burnt to a crisp. It wasn’t the dull pain thudding in his head or the bandage over his eye. 

The first thing he realized was that he was on the ocean. 

At once the pull was drawing him in, the ocean singing out to him and begging him to jump in, to twirl within the waves. Zuko sat up quickly, the pain in his eyes flaring up unbearably now that he was moving. He cried out, a hand raising to his head as wave after wave of pain hit him. 

“Nephew!” Uncle cried, startling from the chair he was sitting in and hurrying over there. “Try not to move, you’re still healing.” 

“What?” Zuko croaked, for the first time realizing how scratchy and pained his voice was. Days spent half aware and screaming as they cut burnt skin from his face floated past his eyes, but he shook them away. “What happened?”

Uncle paused, drawing in a breath as if he wasn’t sure what to do next. 

“I remember what happened,” Zuko snapped, because the old man was staring at him with such wide pitying eyes and Zuko wanted to scream. His face hurt, he could barely hear anything, and he was surrounded with water continuously calling out his name. “Why am I on a ship?”

Uncle wilted a little, and Zuko wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. 

“Your father decided to banish you after the Angi Kai,” Uncle said gently, reaching out as if to touch him. All Zuko could think of was Father’s hands reaching towards him, fist lit with fire, pain pain _pain_. 

Uncle jerked back the second Zuko flinched, his face sinking a bit as he took a step back from the bed. Zuko hated himself for relaxing. 

“What are the terms?” Zuko asked gently, blinking as the fact that he was banished finally set in. He couldn’t go home. What if there weren’t any terms? What if this was it? He never got to go back home, never got to see Azula, never was able to see the Turtleducks or any of the staff ever again. 

Angi he hoped there were terms. He begged Angi to let there be terms, for Father to be merciful enough to let Zuko have just one more chance to prove that he could be a good son, a good heir. 

“Maybe you should rest my Prince,” Uncle said gently, but Zuko shook his head. Concentrating was hard. He wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or the ocean, but he knew that if he rested for even a second he would be lost in the tide of unconsciousness again. 

“Tell me,” He demanded, attempting to raise his voice but it scraped on his sore throat hard enough that he winced, eyes fluttering shut for a second. 

“Your Father said that you would be welcome home as soon as you restore your honor by bringing him the Avatar,” Uncle said gently, his voice so soft and loving and Zuko hated it. 

The Avatar. The main enemy of the Fire Nation. The most powerful bender in the world. Zuko had to find them and bring them to Father in order to ever go home again, in order to be safe again. 

Zuko shut his eyes, squeezing them hard and trying not to sob. He refuses to cry in front of Uncle, not after everything. He’s already shown his weakness, begging in front of practically the entire nation, kneeling and begging like an animal. 

He refuses to be like that again, weak and pathetic, begging for mercy. Father gave him mercy, in the form of his quest. Zuko lost his honor, lost it the second he thought he was important enough to be in that War Meeting, but if he gets the Avatar, not only will he prove himself to his Father and gain back his honor, he’ll be a hero to his people. The people he wants to protect, his people who deserve better than to be sacrificed as bait in a war they never signed up for and-

He cuts his rambled thinking off. He may be dishonored and banished, but he refuses to not learn his lesson. He understands what he did, he understands why he had to leave, why his honor was stripped from him so violently. 

But that doesn’t make it any easier. 

“Prince Zuko?” Uncle said gently. “Are you okay?”

Zuko hates it. He hates how Uncle was so kind, so soft and understanding when Zuko was so twisted and disgusted. He doesn’t deserve it, the kind words, the worried looks. He just wants to be alone. He just wants his mother. He just wants to be in the ocean. 

He doesn’t even need to ask about his pelt. He remembers his Fathers warning from years ago, back when he was still just a stupid little kid. 

_Understand that if any of you step a toe out of line, this privilege will be taken away swiftly._

Zuko stepped more than a toe out of line. He dishonored his entire family and made himself a laughing stock. He knows his pelt will not be resting in any of the packed bags, knows that his Father sent him on a ship for a very certain reason. 

A small part of him cries out in agony. It screams about the unfairness, the cruelty that this punishment was. 

Zuko silenced it. He deserves this. He had warnings, thousands of them, and yet he still made the mistake. And now he must pay for it. 

He feels the call of the ocean, so close to him, lapping around the edges of the ship. He can reach out and touch it if he went up to the deck, and yet he cannot be there. It won’t be the same. It’s there, rolling under him and around him but he can’t join it, he’ll never be able to swim again unless he wins back his honor. 

“Zuko?” Uncle says gently again, and Zuko realized that he had been completely zoned out for a while. Everything is swimming around his head, thoughts muddied and hard to put together. All he feels is the overwhelming idea of pain and loss. 

“I want to sleep,” Zuko whispers, and Uncle nods, his eyes still so worried and concerned. “Stop looking at me like that!” 

He’s suddenly angry, so explosively angry and upset and frustrated and he can feel the ocean around him but he’ll never be able to go in. 

“Prince Zuko,” Uncle tries again, but tears are welling up in his eyes and Zuko can’t stand it. 

“Get out,” He orders through gritted teeth. “I want to be alone. Get out!” 

Uncle looks like he’s going to protest, but eventually just shakes his head and moved towards the door. 

“I won’t be far Nephew,” Uncle whispers in the quiet room. “Please call if you need me.” 

With that Uncle was gone, quietly shutting the door behind him. 

Within seconds Zuko bursts into tears, ugly gross tears that run down his one cheek. His left eye feels tender, as if it was trying so hard to cry but unable to. It hurts, the entire side of his face aches and pulses with endless drumming pain. Zuko curls into himself, sobs tearing out of his chest before he can stop them. 

He wants to throw himself into the ocean and let it take him away, because if he drowns at least he won’t feel this overwhelming pain and emptiness inside of him. He wants his Mother here, to hold him and tell him everything would be okay. But she left. Her pelt was found missing and she was gone. 

He wants his pelt. Wants to wrap the familiar warmth around him and snuggle into it, wants to dive off the side of the ship and head under the waves, wants the current to take him someplace he will never have to think about any of this again. 

But he can’t. He has a duty. 

He sobs into his hands and plots his next step. He doesn’t know a lot about the Avatar, the lessons his teachers taught vague and uninformative. The Avatar had been missing for almost 100 years. But Zuko knows he can find him; he has to be able to find him. He refuses to accept what may happen if he doesn’t.

He refuses to think that he won’t capture the Avatar, that Father will never take him back, that he’ll never regain his honor, or that he’ll never be able to swim again. 

He’ll find the Avatar no matter the cost. Even if it takes a million years. He’ll prove that he can be good, that he’s not worthless, that he was his father’s honorable son and heir to the throne. He finally calms down enough that he’s able to lie back down, his left side facing up. 

The second his face hit’s the pillow he suddenly can’t hear or see, his left ear totally useless and eye bandaged. He panics a bit, sitting up and regretting it when his head spins. Carefully, he lowers himself onto his back, taking steadying breaths and closing his eyes.

He needs sleep. He’ll take a little while to sleep, and then he’ll find the Avatar. 

It seems like a good plan, so Zuko closes his eyes and falls asleep to the steady rocking of the sea. 

________________________________________

The next three years are torture. There’s no way around it, no other way to put it. 

He sails on the sea with a crew that thinks him young and irresponsible. They take any chance they get to provoke him and make him miserable, and he thinks that without Uncle they would have tossed him overboard by this point. 

The thing is that Zuko is more than aware that he’s hunting a myth. That the Avatar was wiped out and most likely dead. But he can’t admit that to himself, refuses to fully believe it. 

The Avatar is out there and Zuko will find him to restore his honor. 

That mindset doesn’t make the actual hunt any easier. Zuko explores all the air temples, learns everything he can about the Avatar cycle, and anything he can about the Air Nomads. There isn’t a lot to learn. 

But he hunts, day and night, obsessed with finding the Avatar and bringing them home to finally end this war and make everything go back to normal. 

And throughout that hunt he sits on this boat and tries not to go out of his mind. 

It’s painful sometimes, or well, most of the time. 

He lies awake at night until ungodly hours, feeling the rock of the waves and unable to sleep with the overwhelming need to dive into the sea. He sits on the deck and tastes the salt in the air, feels the spray of the ocean, and resists the urge to dive into it anyways. 

Being so close to it, within a couple of feet at any moment of time, and yet being unable to dive under the waves and return to his other form, it’s horrible. It keeps him awake at night and drives him crazy throughout the day. He’s irritable and snaps at anyone who talks to him, and a part of him feels bad, but that part is overwhelmed by everything else. 

He can’t help it, really he can’t. It’s the closest thing he knows to torture, being so close but unable to get what he wants. It’s constantly there, mocking him, lovingly calling out and begging him to join them, to swim and slip under the waves. But he _can’t_. Not until he finds the Avatar. 

Whenever he gets some free time, which is rare on this ship, he’ll sit near the edge of the boat and close his eyes, feeling the spray of the water and tasting the salt in the water, and imagines what it was like to swim. 

He can barely remember it anyways, not having gone swimming every since Mother left. When she went she took the trips to Ember Island with her. He tries to remember the lull of the waves, the water over his skin and whiskers, the joy of diving under the blue waves. He remembers playing in the water with Azula, the two of them racing side by side, diving around each other and playfully nudging each other and then racing away. He remembers swimming with the fish, small schools of them brushing against his skin, unafraid as they swim together. 

He remembers and sometimes he’ll start crying, silent tears racing down his cheeks as he holds out a hand, so close that he can touch it, run his fingers through the water and feel the current racing past him. But it’s not good enough. 

He longs for his pelt, to wrap its warmth around him and feel it melt into his skin and settle around his bones. He longs to swim and dive around in the ocean and finally be at home. He closes his eyes and he holds back sobs because the longer this goes on, the more it seems he will never be able to swim again, and the more his memory fades until he barely remembers what it’s like to swim. 

Zuko is sixteen years old and he can’t help but be angry, because being angry is so much easier than admitting how much it hurts. 

His face still aches sometimes, and his facial features on his left side are messed up beyond recognition. He can barely see and hear on that side, and it’s taken years to finally re-learn how to properly walk and fight without that depth perception and lack of sound. Whenever new people look at him they flinch and look away, and even those he’s known for years shy away from looking at his face. Or even worse they do nothing but stare at it, their eyes glued to the horrific mess of skin. 

Even worse is the ache inside his soul. The pain at being away from his pelt for so long, the faded memories of his other form. Three years later and it’s gotten to the point where he can’t remember anymore, can’t picture or feel what it was like to swim. Now it’s only vague feelings, the longing for a rightness that he’s never felt inside these bones. The dull pulsing pain deep inside of him that never went away until he was practically numb to it. 

Then he sees the light. He finds the Avatar. And for the first time in three years he feels lightness in his bones, he feels hope. 

He can go home. He can prove his worth and win back his honor. And most importantly, he’ll have his pelt, he’ll be able to swim. 

He will capture the Avatar, even if he is a twelve-year-old boy who seems overly friendly and is so pathetically young and immature that it makes Zuko’s blood boil. 

He will grab that boy, and he will take him to his father, and he will be with the ocean once again. 

________________________________________________

Everything should be perfect. 

Zuko finally has everything he had ever wanted. He’s back home, his honor restored and his place as heir to the throne secured once again. The Avatar is dead, Zuko ignores how that makes his stomach turn, and he finally has his pelt back. 

Sure he hasn’t touched it, hadn’t been able to swim or even just hold it in his hand, but he saw it. He remembers seeing his Father for the first time in three years and the only thing he could focus on was the pelt wrapped securely around his arm, decorating the red robe. His Father didn’t notice, but judging by the smirk Azula had sent him, it didn’t fly past her head. 

Just being in the same area of it helped, the pressure that had been resting in Zuko for so long finally releasing. The fact that they weren’t exactly near the ocean anymore helped too, the pull fading into just a dull ache. 

Everything should be perfect, and yet Zuko is still so angry at everything at all points in time and he can’t help it. He breaths and feels rage simmering deep inside him, and before he had something to aim it at. Before he focused all of it towards the Avatar, his goal of capturing him. But now? There was nothing else to project it onto. 

Now? It was abundantly clear that the only one he was truly angry at was himself. 

He thinks of Uncle, the kind words of advice and endless patience even when Zuko was unbearable to be around. What would Uncle tell him to do? How would Uncle react if Zuko told him about the deep seeded hate rolling in his gut at all times? Probably something smart, something wise that Zuko wouldn’t understand but it would still make him feel better. 

More realistically Uncle would say nothing, because Zuko betrayed him. 

But no, Uncle betrayed _him_ , not the other way around. Uncle betrayed their Nation and their people and Zuko should stop feeling bad for the old man. 

Knowing that didn’t stop the sudden roll of anger in his stomach, making his hands curl into fists and his nails to dig painfully in his skin. He wanted to scream, he wanted to lash out and punch and hit things until his knuckles were a bloody mess. 

The anger and resentment were building up in his chest and he closed his eyes, shaking with the effort of restraining it. 

It was close to midnight he thinks. He should be asleep, lying next to Mai in their shared bedroom. But she was pissed at him, although that much wasn’t new. He loved her, really he did, but he wasn’t sure if they were good for each other, especially not now. He was just so angry all the time and she was so closed off, even to him, and everything was so confusing and frustrating and this was supposed to be perfect. 

It was supposed to be perfect once he got back, and yet all Zuko wants to do is catapult himself off the cliff face. 

He stands on the beach, the cool sand digging in between his toes. Ember Island was supposed to be the ‘happy place’ Uncle was always talking about. The place that held his best memories, and truly it did. But right now it was just painful. 

He thinks it might be because of the ocean lapping at the earth a couple feet in front of him. The longing in his chest pulls painfully, but after three years on the sea it’s more than normal to feel it. He’s almost numb to it now, to the point that he thinks that stopping feeling it would be stranger. 

“Are you almost done sulking?” Azula’s sharp voice calls out from behind him, and he startles a little, not showing it as he turns to look at her. She’s standing a couple feet away, arms held behind her and head tilted slightly to the side. 

“I’m not sulking,” He stubbornly says, although that was almost exactly what he’s doing. 

“You sure?” She asks innocently, stepping closer. “Because that’s what it looks like Zuzu.”

“Are you just here to make me feel worse?” He snaps, anger bubbling up again and he lets it free, because at least Azula was used to feeling it. In fact, by the widening smile, she enjoys it. 

“Of definitely,” She said airily. “It’s one of the few things that bring me pleasure.” 

“Glad to provide,” He hisses, turning away from her. Irrationally, he wants to cry. He can’t remember the last time he cried in front of her. He doesn’t want to. “What do you want?” 

“To reminisce mostly,” She is standing next to him now, their shoulders almost touching. It’s a bit too close for his comfort, and he thinks that’s the entire point. 

“This would be the place to do it,” He snorts, staring out at the sea. He remembers coming here with her and Mother. Although the memory is blurred with the effects of time. 

“What do you say about a swim?” She suddenly asks, and he blinks, turning to stare at her. She turns to grin at him, and it’s a little less sharp than her normal ones, a hint of excitement behind her eyes. 

“What do you mean?” He asks, looking back out to the sea. It’s way too cold to go for a swim, and he doesn’t really want to get his clothes wet. 

“You really are completely daft aren’t you Zuzu?” She says with a condescending laugh. He’s about to snap at her again when she pulls her hands out from behind her back, showing the two pelts grasped in her hands. 

“What?” He says dumbly, staring at the pelt he knows instinctively is his. How did she convince Father to let her take them? Why hadn’t she told him earlier? “How?”

“Being the favorite child has its perks,” She grins with teeth as sharp as sharks, but he can’t bring himself to care. 

Not when his pelt and the ocean are so close. 

He hasn’t swum in six years. Angi it’s been so long. He reaches out and grabs his pelt before she changed her mind and decides to not be as weirdly nice as she was at the moment. 

“Just like when we were kids,” Azula said, and she sounds as excited as he feels. He wonders how long it’s been since she swam. He wonders if swimming alone is as freeing as swimming as a family. 

He grins at her, and she rolls her eyes but he can detect a hint of amusement in her eyes. It makes a deep part of him warm. A part of him that believes that maybe they can still be siblings, under all the resentment and competition. 

He strips off his shirt without another thought. She copies him, the two of them shedding their clothes and it should be weird, stripping down to nothing beside his sister, but there’s no room for strangeness. They have never been governed by the normal rules of humans, because they weren’t were they? 

Running naked beside her towards the sea is not strange, because that’s simply who they are, a ritual they’ve done hundreds of times as kids, their mother beside them. 

He wraps his pelt around his neck as he strides towards the water, Azula copying him to his side. 

“Race you,” Azula says, almost childishly, and he turns to grin at her before the two of them hit the water, diving under the waves. 

Zuko can’t describe how it feels. He thinks he never will be able to. The feeling of his pelt curling around him, covering every inch as he changed, bones and body mass enlarging and shifting into the animals, and as soon as he dives under the water he is no longer restrained by human constraints. 

The ocean sings around him, humming around his skin almost like welcoming him home. He would laugh if he could, pure joy and happiness filling him up as he dove under the waves, eyes searching for his sister in the murky water. 

She comes up beside him, sleek and sharp, her golden eyes meeting his. She smiles, showing her sharp teeth before her tail is lightly smacking him. Then she’s off, diving further into the sea, her body built for speed and power. Zuko grins back, water slipping into his mouth and the salt soothing against his teeth. He races after her without a single thought. 

Swimming comes naturally, even after all these years. His body moves without thought, instinct taking over as he dives through the waves, the current pushing him along. He’s fast, catching up to her soon. He thinks she’s letting him, but doesn’t keep it in his head long. 

This isn’t a time to be debating their statice as siblings, not when he’s finally home, when he’s finally swimming. 

He feels more at home as a seal than he ever has as human. Here he feels free, powerful and fast. Under here there is no doubt, no betrayal and no anger. There is only swimming, the feeling of water, and the powerful strokes of his fins. 

The view under the water isn't anything pretty, he will admit. The water is murky from the sediment they're kicking up, the blue cloudy and almost impossible to see through. He doesn't care. Sometimes he'll dive close to the bottom, the pressure humming around his skin as he glides among the smooth sand, twirling around the colorful coral. Seaweed tickles his stomach as he swims by, sticking to his skin before peeling away. Everything under the water seems to sway in a song that he can only hear in his soul, the same tune echoing throughout the entire world.

Other times Azula and him skim around the top, their heads peeking out of the after to feel the chilled night air. They dart along the surface, the waves washing over him and the water skimming along their backs. From here he can see the moon sitting in the sky, watching them as they swim. He can see the shore a couple of miles away, and in front of him nothing but water as far as he could see. Endless places for him to explore, to wander through.

Azula and him swim together for what feels like hours. It probably is. Under the waves time is not a thing. She never leaves him behind, the two of them diving and twirling together, clicking and barking to communicate. Somehow, even without words, they understand each other. 

At one point they find a pod of dolphins, joining them as they twirl under the water. Zuko has never felt freer than at this moment. He's not that different than them, jumping through the water and traveling, hunting for fish and socializing in words incomprehensible to anyone above the water. They chatter and whistle at him and he grunts back, an understanding not formed by words. 

Eventually, they can see the sun start to rise and Azula tosses her head back towards the shore. She starts to swim away, but he doesn’t follow, unable to force himself to move. 

He doesn’t want to go back, doesn’t want to shed his pelt and leave the ocean behind once again. Not after so long without it. These few hours have been wonderful, better than anything he has ever known. But it’s not enough, it will never be enough. 

He wants to swim out farther, see how far he can swim by himself, to never leave the waves and drift in the ocean, eat some fish he comes across and not think about everything he needs to do. Everything he has done. Everyone he has hurt.

Azula pauses, turning and seeming to notice his reluctance. She snorts, and he thinks if seals could roll their eyes she would be. She’s by his side again within a moment, nudging him with her snout. It’s oddly gentle despite her clear impatience. 

He wonders what it would be like if she came with him. The two of them in the open ocean, no one else to worry about, no one to pit them against each other. He thinks that maybe they would be okay if they did. Out here, their souls were barred to each other. There was an understanding they didn’t have on land, as if every disagreement and argument was wiped clean the second they slipped into their sealskin. 

Zuko wanted to be like this with her forever, this understanding, the spending time together without harsh words or barbs meant to hurt and tear each other down. He wants to swim beside her, hunt beside each other and spend the nights drifting through the sea together, staring at the stars. 

She nudges him again, and this time it’s more impatient, and he knows that he needs to go back. Knows that this dream was only that, a dream. 

He’ll never be able to stay out here, and even if he did, Azula would never stay with him. She would go back, leave him without another thought. Because unlike him, she was strong. She had never doubted herself, never debated her place in the world. This existence, their other form, was a luxury that she could live without. Zuko can’t. 

He knows the second he steps on land they will go back to the Palace. Father will take their pelts back and it will most likely be years until they can get back out to the sea. 

He starts the swim back, considerably slower than before. Azula stays by his side, nudging him forwards a couple of times when she seems him going too slow. Eventually, they come back to the shore, and it’s physically painful for Zuko to peel off his pelt and turn back into a human. He doesn’t turn to look at Azula, instead shaking his wet hair and walking back over to his clothes, pulling them on. 

“I almost thought you wouldn’t come back,” Azula says casually from beside him, but her voice is heavier than normal, almost as if she understands. He isn’t sure if she does. “I was about to celebrate my promotion back to Heir.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” He says, turning and walking away. “My loyalty isn’t with the sea.” 

He walks away faster, hoping that she wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes. She says nothing behind him. He thinks it’s the only merciful thing she’s ever done for him.


	2. Between the grief and your sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko finally confronts his Father and joins the Gaang. It goes as well as you would expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting the chapter off strong with Zuko leaving his father :) I kept the confrontation between him and Ozai fairly canon-compliant, because I wanted this story to mostly be a skeleton AU, so I'm following canon just with this occurring to the side. So there's a few time jumps, but just assume everything that happened in canon occurred the same way.
> 
> In this chapter is a little cultural misunderstanding between some of the characters and I just wanted to clear some things up right away. In Orkney legend, which is where selkies come from, originally selkies and finfolk were considered the same thing, but at some point in time they got separated into two different beings, the finfolk being a lot more aggressive and violent and malicious. So the Water Tribe siblings' story is based on them with a little bit of Selkie lore sprinkled in, whereas Zuko's story is more focused on Selkie's. Hope this makes sense and I hope you enjoy!!
> 
> Warnings for: Abuse, Ozai's general shittiness, and slight suicidal ideation and can in some ways be seen as suicidal intentions

He isn’t sure when he decided to leave, but once he had, it made sense. 

He had everything he wanted, his pelt, his family, his title, his honor. And yet he hated it. 

He was miserable, aware that this war was ridiculous and petty. His Father planned to burn the entire Earth Kingdom down, and Zuko can’t let that happen. The amount of innocent people that would die, people that he met, that he understood. He couldn’t let his Father do that. 

As soon as he realized that, things became strangely easy. 

Writing a letter to Mai was stupid, but weirdly easy. The plan to save Uncle was a no brainer, it was the only logical thing to do. 

Zuko wasn’t really sure where he was going with the whole confronting his father thing. In fact, he thinks it’s the stupidest thing he has ever done. 

But he needs to try. He’s still his Father, and as much as he hates to admit it, Zuko thinks he still loves him. He thinks he finally is able to accept that Father doesn’t love him back though. Zuko’s not naïve anymore. He isn’t going to willingly pull the koala sheep wool down over his eyes. 

Theres also another issue. Deep down Zuko knows he won’t be able to get his pelt back. Short of literally pulling it off of Father, his pelt wouldn’t be going with him. 

If he thinks about it for more than five seconds he thinks he’ll break down and sob, so he doesn’t. He just acts. 

Father sends the guards away. He thinks him a fool. Zuko thinks he might be right, but even as a fool he is a threat. If he really wanted to he could probably kill his Father where he sat. But that wasn’t how this was supposed to go. For so long Zuko thought finding the Avatar was his destiny, but now he’s sure that helping the Avatar was what it always truly was. 

He gets the news about Ba Sing Sa out of the way first, admitting to Azula and his lie. He’s kind of throwing his sister under the bus, but well he can’t bring himself to care that much. He can’t count the amounts of times she had done the same to him. His Father barely reacts. He seems almost bored. The anger flares up again, but he pushes it down. Now is not the time. 

Breaking the news of the Avatar’s survival is a bit more satisfying. To see the anger flare across his Fathers face at the fact that the Avatar might be on his way at that moment. A part of him cringes away at the anger, thinking of flaming fists. His eyes quickly flicker down to his pelt. It sits across his father’s shoulders, so carelessly thrown over his robes. Such disrespect for something that meant so much to him. Zuko wants to tear his Father’s throat out just for that, for acting as if a part of Zuko’s very being was an accessory to place on his shoulders. 

“Get out!” His Father snaps, rising to his feet and pointing towards the door. Zuko doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even feel the urge. He’s in control now, for the first time in possibly his entire life he controlled his own destiny. “Get out of my sight right now if you know what’s good for you.”

“That’s another thing,” Zuko replies calmly, adrenaline pounding through him. “I’m not taking orders from you anymore.” 

“You will obey me,” Father snarls, voice deadly calm. “Or this last defiant breath will be your last. Don’t forget the things I can do to you. The power I hold.” 

Zuko’s eyes flicker to his pelt again, an icy hand snaking down to grab at his heart. He remembers his Mothers desperate words from what seemed like ages ago, begging him to never step out of line, to never risk his pelt. But he was done sitting down and just listening to what his Father said, to becoming a monster to earn his praise. 

Father walks towards him, anger visible on his face and Zuko’s heart starts to race, his hands reaching behind his back and drawing his swords before he could even think. His Father stops in place, and Zuko feels a bit of pride at thinking how he can inspire that tiny bit of fear into his Fathers eyes.

“Think again,” Zuko snarls, and his Father’s face shows a flicker of surprise. “I am going to speak my mind, and you are going to listen.” 

His Father sits back down and Zuko finds himself a bit lost. He's practiced this of course, but rehearsing in his mirror isn't the same as facing his Father and saying everything he's been thinking for years. He’s waited for this for ages, to have this moment to finally be completely honest with his father and not fear the consequences. He’s terrified, of course he is, and he thinks this may be the most stupid thing he has ever done. But his eyes flicker to his pelt again and he knows he needs to do this if he has any hope of leaving with it. 

“For so long, all I wanted was for you to love me, for you to accept me. I thought it was my honor I wanted, but really? I was just trying to please you,” Zuko takes a deep breath, anger simmering below his skin. “You, my father, who refused me access to a vital part of myself, who banished me for speaking out of turn, my father who challenged me, a thirteen-year-old, to an Angi Kai. How can you possibly justify a duel with a child? To justify using my pelt, a part of my soul, against me?” 

“It was to teach you respect,” Father started, but Zuko wasn’t done. He had waited too long for this. Had spent three long years going half insane on the ocean without his pelt, had his entire face messed up because of him. He wouldn't wait any longer. 

“It was cruel, and it was wrong,” He feels like screaming, like shoving his swords through his Father’s chest.

“Then you’ve learned nothing.” 

“No,” He cuts him off again. “I’ve learned everything.”

He lets the words rush out of him, everything he learned during his time away, everything he forced himself to forget when he accepted Azula’s offer to come home. How the world hated them, how everything he learned was a lie. They didn’t need this anger, this hate. The world needed peace; it needed an end to this senseless violence. He let the words flow from his mouth like water, his tone steady and pace unhurried despite the anxiety he felt churning in his gut. He had never spoken to his Father like this, had only disrespected him once and that didn’t turn out well. 

It was freeing. To stare his Father in the eyes and tell him everything he thought. To finally air the doubts and hesitance he had always felt. It was good to stare his Father in the eye and tell him he was wrong. That Zuko wasn't weak or pathetic like he forced him to think. He didn't deserve any of the shit his Father did to him, and being able to air even just a little of that washed away some of the blackness nestling in his chest.

Once he was done his Father simply laughed. Zuko tried not to scream in rage. 

“Your Uncle has gotten to you, hasn’t he?” Father taunts, and Zuko thinks of his Uncle, locked in the prison rotting away, refusing to talk to him. Zuko would do anything for him, to prove that he could be good enough to consider himself his nephew. 

“Yes, he has,” Zuko tells him without hesitation. It was the truth after all. “After I leave here today, I’m going to free Uncle Iroh from his prison and I’m going to beg for his forgiveness. He’s the one who's been a real Father to me.” 

It isn’t much of a dig, but it’s true. He isn’t sure his Father, no Ozai, has ever seen him as a son. His entire life Zuko vied for the attention of a man who had no intention of being his father. Who brunt him for speaking out, who wore his pelt like a decoration. It hurts to think about, but Zuko’s tired of shying away from painful truths. Father taunts him some more, but Zuko barely listens. 

“I’ve come to an even more important decision,” He continues. “I’m going to join the Avatar, and I’m going to help him defeat you.” 

“Really?” Ozai seems amused. Zuko hates him. “Since you’re a full-blown traitor now and you want me gone, why wait? I’m powerless, you’ve got your swords, why don’t you just do it now?” 

It’s tempting. Honestly, it is. To shove his swords through his Father's chest, grab his pelt, and run. It would throw the entire nation into chaos, but it would be worth it to see the surprised look on his Father’s face when Zuko kills him. 

“I know my own destiny,” Zuko takes a deep breath. Control. Uncle's voice whispers in the back of his head, hundreds of lessons on restraint running through his mind. “And taking you down is the Avatars.” 

He tucks his swords away, but finds he can’t turn and walk away. He wants to, should leave now before Father gets his powers back, but Zuko’s eyes are drawn back towards the pelt and he is suddenly stuck in place. Father’s grin grows. 

“Your Mother truly did make you weak by gifting you with this didn’t she?” Father said casually, reaching up and grabbing the pelt off his shoulders, bringing it to his lap and caressing it like it was some kind of pet. Zuko snarls despite himself. “Don’t you want to know what happened to her?” 

If any part of Zuko was about to leave, he couldn’t now. Not with his Mothers whereabouts dangling over his head along with his pelt. Father’s grin widens. He once again holds the cards in his hands.

“My Father, Firelord Azulon had commanded me to do the unthinkable to you, my son. And I was going to do it.” Zuko knew this, Azula told him as much but he still feels something twist inside his chest at his Father openly admitting to being okay with murdering him. Zuko shouldn’t be surprised, and yet he is. “Your Mother found out, and swore she would protect you at all costs. Even at the risk of her pelt.” 

Zuko feels his breaths catch in his throat, hearts pounding faster than it ever has. He doesn’t know a lot about the night. Knows what Azula taunted him about, his Mother’s parting words, knows that his Mother and her pelt were gone by morning.

Father continues to tell him about what his Mother did. How they plotted against Azulon to get Ozai the throne. How she committed the unthinkable in order to save him.

“For her treason, she was banished,” Father grins, and Zuko feels something like hope flutter in his chest.

“So she’s alive,” Zuko whispers, and he feels tears run down his cheek. He ignores it, knowing how he must look so pathetic.

“Perhaps,” Ozai shrugged. “If I was wiser I would have burned her and her pelt alive. Now I realize banishment as a punishment for treason isn’t enough, your punishment will be much worse.” 

Zuko feels his connection to the sun click back on, and he barely has a second to react before Ozai is shooting lightning at him. 

Zuko remembers the moves Uncle showed him purely on instinct, catching the electricity in his hands, struggling to stay on his feet as he flies backwards. He knows if he lifts them the electricity will rush out and he will lose what little control he has. It cackles throughout his body, filling him with it as he goes through the moves. 

He feels powerful, like a thousand little needles were prickling into his skin, and if he focused hard enough he could pretend that he was in control of it. It’s the first time he’s properly done this, and if Zuko had even a moment longer to think he probably would’ve been scared. But all he understands is that he was not about to die in this room by his Father’s hands. He pointed his fingers back at his father, the lighting hitting just in front of his feet, sending him flying backwards. 

In the next two seconds, Zuko has a lot of thoughts. 

The first was his pelt. He needed it, couldn’t leave without it, not again. His entire being ached for it, and it was just a couple of feet away, so close that he could just run and grab it. 

The second was that his Father just tried to kill him. He didn’t know that Zuko could bend lighting, he aimed to kill. That thought didn’t surprise or shock Zuko as much as it probably should have. 

The third thought was that firebending was back and his father was a lot stronger than he was. If he didn’t leave right away then he truly would be dead. His father would roast him alive. His head and heart were screaming at him, something deep inside of him kicking and flailing in protest, but Zuko turned and ran from the room as fast as he could. He feels like crying, but there’s no time for that, no time to mourn the loss.

He’ll help the Avatar defeat his father and then get his pelt back. Everything will work out in the end, Zuko has to believe it will. 

Things go wrong instantly, because of course it does. Uncle had already broken out, and Zuko tried not to scream in frustration. The only good thing that happens is when he notices the Avatar and his friends leaving. He climbs into a war balloon and follows them. 

He’ll go and beg them to take him in, after all the Avatar still can’t firebend, and that’s something he’s going to need to know. Zuko was pretty good at Firebending, while he was no Azula he did have some skills to share. 

He needed to do something after all. After everything that he’s done, everyone that he’d hurt, and all the lives he’s ruined. He needs to make at least a little bit of it right, even if he spends the rest of his life righting his own wrongs. 

The flight is uncomfortably long, and leaves Zuko with nothing to do except debate his entire existence and place in the world, which he isn’t the biggest fan of doing. 

He’s kind of terrified too, if he’s being honest. His Father must be pissed. This was the second time Zuko had disobeyed him and this time he quite literally shot lightning at him. There isn’t a doubt in Zuko’s kind that if he ever sees his Father again, he won’t make it out alive. 

He’s halfway through the flight when he feels it. 

It starts with a tingling in his fingers, like a thousand pins stabbing the tips of his fingers. 

Then it gets a lot worse. It happens within a second, leaving no time to prepare. 

One minute he’s okay, tending to the flames, and the next he feels as if his entire body was caught on fire. 

He drops the ropes he was holding and falls to the ground, his mouth opening in a soundless scream. 

He clutches his chest as the burning feeling erupts through him, overtaking every piece of him as he collapsed. 

Every nerve was on fire, and it feels like the Angi Kai all over again, except this time the flames were over his entire body, burning him from the inside out. 

He’s aware he’s screaming, but he can’t stop it, his body locking together and seizing. Pathetic sounding whimpers falls from his lips, sounds ripped out of him without his awareness. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt pain like this before. 

Then, just as abruptly as it started, it was over. 

Zuko lays on the floor of the war balloon and he feels empty. 

He feels like someone burned his insides, roasting everything inside until all that was left was ash, his organs shriveling and blackening inside of his gut.

Tears fall from his eyes and he knows that his pelt was gone. 

He knows it with the certainty that he’s never felt before, knows that the empty, hollow feeling in his chest was where his pelt used to sit. 

A sob rips out of his throat forcibly, and he curls into a ball, the ache of his pelt burning to a crisp still vibrating through him. For a while that’s all he can do, lie there and wail. He can’t feel the connection to his pelt, and he thinks this might hurt more than anything he had ever been through.

After a while the tears don’t come and he’s too exhausted to cry anymore. He stands up and sees that the Avatar and his group is still in front of him, but he can’t bring himself to care. All he can do is collapse back on the ground and curl into a ball. He can barely feel anything anymore, his mind too caught up with the absence of the feeling deep in his chest. 

He thinks that if he dies at this moment he would be grateful. He doesn’t know how to survive without his other form, doesn’t think he wants to. 

But he doesn’t have that luxury. He isn’t allowed to take the easy way out. He needs to right the wrongs he’s committed first; solve the issues he and his family have caused. Maybe he deserves all this, his punishment for being such a shitty person. 

But he’ll right it, he has to make it right. If not for himself then for the innocent people who will die if he doesn’t. He tells himself that it will be worth it. 

Somehow, that doesn’t make the ache in his chest any less painful. 

______________________________________________________

Zuko thinks that maybe he’s torturing himself. He doesn’t need his Father or Azula to do it for him, he’s good enough at it on his own. Probably from years of learning from the best. 

Ember Island was the safest place for them to be, Zuko was sure of that. No one knew them there, and Azula or Father wouldn’t come down here with their plan so close to motion. They would be invisible here, unnoticeable and uncatchable as long as no one caught on. 

Logically it all made sense. 

That didn’t stop it from hurting _so damn much_. 

Every day here was torture, and Zuko threw himself into training Aang with a ferocity that seemed to alarm the younger boy, but Zuko pretended not to notice. 

If he kept firebending, kept himself busy, then he wouldn’t notice the call of the ocean or the fact that he’ll never be able to swim again. Whenever he wasn’t teaching Aang, he was running through katas of his own, either firebending or swords. 

The rest of the group had picked up on his habits, taking to giving him weird looks and trying to bribe him into sitting down and resting with them. It was frustrating, because they didn't understand. None of them got it. 

He couldn’t stop, couldn’t breathe, because if he did the emptiness in his chest would grow and pulse with a dull aching pain and he would end up at the beach, staring out at the water and yearning to be there so bad it hurt. His thoughts were sometimes overtaken by the instinct to swim, until he would just stand at the beach and stare out into the waves and he couldn’t think of anything else. 

He feels useless half the time, torn between the warring sides of his mind, each tugging him different ways. On one hand he needed to focus, to train Aang and prepare for the final battle. He owed it to the world, and every day was a struggle to be better, to help right the wrongs he committed in the past. The other side of him screamed and cried and wanted to tear at his skin until it peeled off. That part saw no reason to exist, no purpose to sitting and existing day in and out when part of him was just ashes scattered to the wind. He was stuck with a cival war in his mind, one with no solutions and no surrendering.

The worst moments were at night, when he would stare at the ceilings and he couldn’t stop thinking. Sometimes Zuko really wished he could just melt his brain and have it leak out of his ears. Then he wouldn’t spend every night thinking about how Uncle still hated him, or how Mother was still missing or dead, wouldn’t think of his Father lighting his pelt on fire and burning it to a crisp. 

But he couldn’t, so all he could do was think. 

Whenever he did fall asleep he was suddenly alight with fire, the flames eating away at his face and skin, his pelt in front of him almost close enough to touch but always moving away before Zuko could grasp it. His fingers would glide past it, the barest hint of its softness tickling the pads of his fingers before it dissolved into unbearable heat, crisping his finger and boiling his skin. But he couldn't stop reaching, he refused to give up, even as he thrashed and screamed in pain, tears streaming from his eyes as he stupidly tried to hang onto something that was already gone. Waves would lap at his feet and pull him under, forcing its way into his mouth and drowning him, the water cold and unforgiving, begging for him to explain why he'll never come back. Why he left. It was angry, raging and pulling him deeper and deeper into the depths before he couldn't think anymore and all he knew was darkness. Sometimes he thinks that's the best part of the dream

Most nights he stays awake. 

_____________________________________________

Zuko had grown oddly used to their nightly fires. 

Every night they would gather around the flames and tell stories or tales to each other in attempts to distract themselves from their impending doom. Zuko found himself enjoying them. He rarely put forwards a story of his own, but he listened best he could with his failing hearing, and they truly were entertaining. 

He thinks that maybe he might be able to call everyone there his friends. He never thought he would have those, but he looked across the fire and a warmth would settle into his chest. They listened to him, cared about him, and although they teased and poked fun at him, it was never overly malicious. 

It was odd, to say the least. He wasn’t fully sure what to do with it. He didn’t know how to act, but they didn’t seem to mind. They never yelled or berated him, and he was still anxious about stepping out of line, but they never punished him, never hurt him. 

They seemed to genuinely care about him. Zuko can’t remember the last person who did that. 

Well, maybe he could. Mother and Uncle cared, and so did Lu Ten. But one of them was dead, the other missing and presumed dead, and the last one hated his guts. 

They didn’t really count. 

“Tell us a story Sokka,” Aang pipped up as he sat down, a little late from feeding Appa. 

Storytime was normally something they all participated in, being from different nations they all had unique stories to share. But, if Zuko had to pick a favorite storyteller it would be Sokka for sure. Katara had some interesting stories, but she lacked the natural storytelling dramatics. Aang was often too excitable and often rambled or lost his point halfway through the story. Suki was a pretty good storyteller, but she was a lot happier leaning back and just listening. Toph had her moments, but she didn't find storytime as entertaining as everyone else.

Sokka had a natural storytelling gift, probably due to his charismatic approach to everything. He managed to spin humor into almost every story, and the ups and downs he naturally put in kept Zuko’s attention like a trap. 

“How about a horror story?” Sokka said with a grin. Toph and Suki cheered, and Aang looked only a tiny bit less enthusiastic than before. 

“As long as it’s a good one this time,” Katara warned with a look in her eyes that said she had listened to way too many bad ones. Zuko stayed quiet, although he would admit he was a little excited. He used to love horror stories as a kid, when Azula was still too young to properly terrify him. When he got older and she became crueler, well they were a bit less fun. 

“All my stories are good,” Sokka waved her concern away. “Tonight I’m going to tell you a traditional Water Tribe horror story about,” He paused dramatically, looking around the fire. “Selkies.”

Zuko blinked, surprise flooding through him as he stiffened. Horror story? That wasn’t right.

“What are Selkie’s?” Toph asked, wrinkling her nose. 

“Humans with the ability to turn into seals,” Zuko said without thinking, suddenly all eyes were on him. There was no turning back now. “But I don’t understand, they’re not creatures from a horror story.” 

“You know of Selkie’s in the Fire Nation?” Katara asked, looking genuinely curious. “I thought that was native to us.”

“I remember Selkie’s from when I was a kid!” Aang pipped in. “They were actually mostly from the Fire Nation because of all the islands that make it up, right Zuko?”

Zuko can only nod, a bitter taste in the back of his throat. The ache deep inside his chest worsened and he curls up a bit, tucking his knees close to his chest. He can distantly hear the soft lap of water against the sand. 

“Is that why in the portraits of your Father he’s wearing sealskin?” Suki asks, and Zuko knows immediately what she’s talking about. There was only one portrait of his Father in this house, one of his entire family tucked away in one of the upper rooms. He isn’t surprised that Suki went through the entire house and found it. 

Zuko hates that painting. It was when he was seven, with Mother’s hand on his shoulder and Azula grinning so wildly she looked animalistic. And the worse was the three sealskin pelts wrapped around Father’s shoulders and arms. 

Angi, the number of times Zuko had found himself standing outside of that room, aching to go in and just see his pelt again, even if it was just in paint. 

“Something like that,” Zuko muttered, and they must have noticed how uncomfortable he was because Sokka cleared his throat and started his tale again. 

“Well I don’t know how the Fire Nation twisted the story,” Sokka said and Zuko resisted the urge to scream. The urge to fall back to anger whenever he didn't understand something was still just as strong as it used to be, but he was trying him best not to fall into it. Sokka was just telling the stories he was told as a kid. Knowing that didn’t make the ache any less powerful. “But where I come from, it’s a horror story.” 

“Gran Gran used to tell it to us to make sure we didn’t go near the ocean when there was a full moon out,” Katara put in. “I think she was scared of us falling into the high tide.” 

“I thought I was telling this story Katara,” Sokka complained. “Anyways, as the jerkbender said, Selkie’s are half human half seal hybrids. Normally, they live in the sea, but every full moon they would shed their sealskin and come to land to dance under the moon.” 

Zuko stares into the fire, trying to focus on the heat and control the flames. He remembers full moons well. They were almost impossible to sleep at, and often Mother would come and stay up with him, telling him stories of their people. He wonders why she never did it with Azula. 

Distantly, he remembers that once a full moon landed on their trip to Ember Island. The three of them had gone down to the beach after Father had fell asleep, going for a quick swim before coming back out onto the land. Mother had shown them some traditional dances, and the three of them spent the night out under the light of the moon, dancing and existing together. It was one of Zuko’s better memories. 

“Selkie’s are intense creatures,” Sokka started again. “They only come to land for a few things, and if it isn’t dancing, then any human has to be very cautious.” 

Zuko didn’t like this story that much. Sokka’s insistence to call Selkie’s creatures and state that they were different from humans. They weren’t that different after all. Whenever Zuko was in human form, _forever in human form now_ , he wasn’t a creature, he was human just like them. 

“Selkie men often come to land to find a mate, finding the loneliest girl he could and sweeping her out into sea, never to be seen again. Often on full moons men will lock up their daughters and wives, fearful that either of them will fall prey to a Selkie male. No one knows what happens to those women, but sometimes they say that you can hear their screams on full moons.”

Okay, Zuko really hated this story. He wasn’t going to get mad, because he guesses that the Water Tribes were allowed to have their own versions of myths, but was this really a myth? His life wasn’t a story, and he wasn’t going to find some innocent girl and drown her out at sea. 

“Mortal women could call a Selkie male if she pleased, and sometimes disillusioned girls with broken or lonely hearts would cry exactly seven tears into the sea, and a selkie would answer, sweeping her out to sea with the promise of a better life, never to be seen again,” Sokka shrugged, looking around and taking in their faces. Toph looked slightly bored, but there was a hint of amusement on her face. Suki and Katara both only looked a little disgusted and nervous, and Aang’s eyes were wide and fearful, completely captured by the story. When Sokka finally looked at him his face fell a little, and Zuko didn’t bother to hide the scowl he was wearing. 

“If a ship went missing out on sea,” Katara picked up the story, Sokka still frowning at Zuko, although he was pretending not to notice. “It was often believed that they were taken by Selkies. Their ship would have crept just a little too close to their homes, they live in underwater caves normally, and the Selkie’s would take them away and leave their ships drifting out on sea, never to be seen again.” 

“Female Selkie’s are often less hostile,” Sokka threw in, picking the story back up. “Their stories are often a lot more depressing to be honest.”

“I hated whenever Gran Gran told us about them,” Katara sighed. “The scary stories were better.” 

“That’s a lie, Katara used to be terrified of them,” Sokka informed them, getting a splash of water to the face. “Hey! Not fair!” 

“Tell the story you doofus,” Toph spoke up, sounding impatient. 

“Fine, fine,” Sokka threw up his arms. “The story often goes that female Selkie’s would come out of the sea to dance, and a male fisherman would see her and become obsessed with their beauty. All Selkies were said to be unnaturally beautiful by the way.” 

Zuko snorts a little at that, and Sokka glares playfully at him for interrupting, but Zuko just gestures for him to go on. He’s a bit interested to hear how this goes. This one sounds more promising than the whole murder storyline. 

“Anyways, the fisherman would see her and fall in love, and then he would find her pelt. As soon as he took it, she was unable to return back to the sea, and in most stories was forced to marry him.” 

“Men are barbarians,” Suki threw in, Katara nodding along. 

“Normally their marriages would be oddly happy, they would have many children, the selkie would blend into society and get along with everyone around her. But as long as her husband had her pelt, he could force her to do anything. Normally the story ends with the wife finding her pelt and returning to the sea leaving behind a heartbroken family.”

“That is sad,” Aang said, frowning slightly. 

Zuko stares into the fire and hopes that no one can tell that the flames are climbing a bit higher. 

He can’t help but think of his Mother, the way she disappeared into the night, never to be seen again, leaving him and Azula behind. He thinks she did it to protect him, to stop Father from having to kill him on Grandfather's request, but how could he be sure? Her pelt was gone. Zuko never learned if she took it or if Father burned it after her betrayal. He hopes that she took it and ran far away, but a small part of him wishes more that she took him with her. 

“That’s just how the story goes,” Sokka shrugs. “It is kind of sad though, I always felt bad for her.”

“What about you Sparky?” Toph suddenly spoke up, startling him. 

“What?” He said dumbly. 

“You said that the Fire Nation has Selkies too? And that they’re different?” Toph waved a hand. “Tell us more.” 

“Oh, um,” Zuko blinked, glancing around the fire for away out. Everyone was looking at him expectedly. “I’m not very good at stories,” He offered lamely. 

“Please Zuko?” Aang asked, smiling widely. “I want to hear the Fire Nation’s side. Gyatso only told me a few stories.” 

Everyone echoed the same thing at once, all encouraging him to tell his side of the tale and it gave him enough of a headache that he agreed just to get it over with. 

“Fine,” He sighed, wondering where to start. “First off, male Selkie’s do not kidnap innocent people to take them to the sea. That’s just ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous!” Sokka protested, waving a hand. “That’s the story!”

“Where I come from, Selkie’s are not stories,” Zuko told him firmly, narrowing his eyes and bristling slightly. “They’re just people. They’re actually fairly common here.”

“Really?” Suki spoke up. “You’ve met one? We’ve never heard of them outside of the stories.”

“They don’t tend to publicize it,” Zuko shrugged. “Around here it isn’t that strange to be one, but they don’t go around talking about it everywhere. It’s better kept as a secret so that when they go out to swim no one thinks to follow them and steal their pelt. Most Selkie's aren't stupid enough to risk it. And after Sozin came into power he created a whole bunch of laws about Selkie's and their pelts. Many Selkie's dont' reveal themselves for that reason. ” 

It makes him sick to think about, especially since he had no idea about these laws until after he was banished. It's hard to talk about this, to think about his people suffering in any way. He tries his best to act as if he was removed from it all, to never used personal pronouns. They can’t know, he doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it if they did. He thinks they would look just like Uncle did when he was first on that ship, soft understanding eyes that grated on Zuko’s skin like rocks. 

“So the pelt thing is the same?” Katara asked.

“Somewhat,” Zuko shrugged. “They don’t have complete power the second someone has their pelt. But, well their pelts are what connects them to their other form. Without it they can’t go back into the ocean, they can’t swim. And that’s a large part of them. In a way, their pelts are connected to their souls, a part of them just like their arms or legs. If someone takes it, often they do whatever they say simply out of fear. They control a part of them, and the fear of never getting it back fuels their every movement.”

He stares at the fire, the flickering flames helping center him and keep him in the moment. But even so, he can’t stop thinking about the empty feeling where his connection to his pelt used to be. The ache in his bones that cried out from being so close to the ocean and yet never able to join it again. 

“Selkie’s spend most of their time above water,” Zuko continues so he doesn’t have to think. “There’s a few that mostly live in the ocean, but most of the time they get families and live normal lives. They stay close to the ocean though. It’s a part of them, and if they’re away for too long their minds can get messed up.” 

He thinks of the years he spent without his pelt, surrounded by ocean but unable to go in. It’s a bit blurry, even now. He isn’t sure what he did half the time really. Everything was blur back then, every other thought about the ocean and swimming. He remembers how angry he was, how upset he got at the unfairness of the situation. The way he focused that pain and confusion into anger and aggression. How he felt he deserved it and that just made everything worse.

It was cruel and it was wrong. It was _cruel_ and it was _wrong_.

He thinks of what will happen in a few years now that he’ll never be able to swim again. Without that hope of finally getting it all back, he might nosedive a lot sooner than he did before. He wonders how long he has until his sanity starts to crumble.

“My mother would tell me stories of Selkie’s who resisted the call of the sea. Who either were unable to get their pelts or lived too far from the sea. Basically, they go insane. Their mind is always caught on the call of the sea to the point where any other thought is near impossible. After a while thinking of anything else is impossible. All they can focus on is the call of the sea, the lure of their other form. They’d do anything to get back, to change and feel the waves again. Many of them, even without their pelts, enter the sea and let it drown them because it’s the closest thing they can get to being back there in their sealskin,” Zuko takes a deep breath, thinking of what he did to get back home, back to his pelt. 

The people he hurt, the people he betrayed. Every single moment was fueled by the desperate desire to hold his pelt again, the fear that he may never be able to again. 

He got it back. He had it close enough and it was safe and Zuko tossed that down the drain. Left it behind and now it was _gone, burnt to a crisp just like your face. I bet he laughed as he did it, took pleasure in seeing your pelt go up in flames. Azula probably watched, she probably laughed. It’s gone and you’ll never get it back, you’re forever stuck and one day you will go insane._

The fire spikes a bit higher, causing his friends to flinch back slightly. 

“Sorry,” He mutters, embarrassed. The little voice in his head laughs. It sounds a lot like Azula. 

“That’s a pretty depressing story too,” Toph said after a moment. “I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk.” 

Zuko opens his mouth to defend himself, but she’s probably right. 

“You said that they aren’t able to make it back to the ocean,” Katara cut in. “Why would that be?” 

“In many cases it’s because their lovers or captors don’t let them get their pelt. They hide it away where the Selkie can’t feel it and they go insane, sometimes it’s because it’s been,” His voice fades out for a second. _Overwhelming pain, fire overtaking every inch of his body, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts._ “Destroyed.” He finally finishes, his voice thick. 

“Destroyed?” Sokka asks, eyes wide. 

“People destroy the Selkie’s pelts?” Aang said, sounding devastated. Zuko can’t look at any of them, instead just staring into the fire. _Fire that curled around your pelt, that burnt it to a crisp. Your own element as your destruction._ “Why would they do that?”

“Power,” Zuko sneers, lips curling up. “They do it to show their control, to trap the Selkie’s on land forever. It’s punishment, the cruelest you can get.”

They’re silent for a very long time, all of them mulling that over. 

“Does it hurt?” Katara said quietly, almost like she doesn’t want to ask. “Their pelts being destroyed?”

“More than anything in the world,” Zuko says without even thinking. It’s the truth. “It’s like being burnt alive from the inside out, and it doesn’t last for long, just until the pelt is gone. But it’s what comes next that hurts the most. The moment they realize that they will never swim again, they’ll never feel the warmth of their pelt. The emptiness where their other form used to nestle in. And the call to the ocean, the constant becoming even though they know they can never go back. And it never goes away. The Selkie’s have to live with it for the rest of their lives.”

Everyone falls silent. Aang sniffs a little, and he feels bad for making the kid sad. Sokka and Katara look a little sad too, but mostly pensive as they compare his stories with their own. Toph is staring blankly, and he can’t tell what she’s thinking of. Suki is staring at him with a look of concentration, almost like she was connecting something in her mind. He doesn’t like that look. 

“It’s not all bad though,” He says weakly, trying to boost their sour mood. “It’s a rare thing, and most Selkie’s live happily their entire lives. We’re mostly-“ He pauses for a second, stumbling over his words. “They’re mostly a happy species.” 

Everyone’s still staring into the fire, and he wonders if anyone caught his slip up.

“Zuko,” Suki says gently after a moment, he looks into her eyes and there’s an understanding in them that he isn’t sure he likes. “Are you a Selkie?”

He feels his heart stop and pick up again as he blinks at her. The others are staring at him now, eyes wide as they also make the connection. 

“No,” He lies, frowning. “Of course not.” 

“I can tell when you lie Sparky,” Toph whispers, and she sounds slightly horrified, her face pulled into a frown. Her voice is soft, softer than normal. He remembers how Uncle’s voice sounded, how it was always so gentle and understanding. 

“I’m not,” He practically snarls, and the fire spikes a little bit. He doesn’t care. He’s not lying to them either. “Not anymore.” 

There’s silence across the fire, and Zuko realizes that he needs to go. He needs to stand up and leave and walk away and never come back out. 

“I’m going to bed,” He manages to say, standing up swiftly and turning his back to them, walking away as fast as he could. He heard someone call out after him, but he doesn’t stop, and they don’t come after him. Good. He doesn’t think he would be able to deal with that. 

He isn’t sure why it’s such a big deal that they know, but it is. Zuko doesn’t like secrets, he's kind of bad at lying about them, but this was one he wanted to keep. It was still too painful to think about, the ache in his chest had yet to go away. If they knew, they would want to talk about it, and Zuko didn’t want to talk. He never wanted to think about it again. 

He stops a few meters away from the house. It’s dark enough that no one would be able to see him. The moon is full that night, but he knows the angles in this place, and where they are at the fire leaves them at a disadvantage. He turns around and walks towards the beach. 

He isn’t quite sure why he does it, thinks that going to sleep and pretending nothing happened would be a lot smarter, but his feet are moving without his consent. 

He stands on the beach and stares out at the sea. The sand settles around his feet and he digs his toes into the familiar feeling. The moon is bright above him and something deep inside him tugs. He steps closer to the water. 

Tears sting his eyes as his chest starts to hurt again, something deep inside him begging to go closer, to jump into the water and swim away. But he can’t, not without his pelt. His pelt that was destroyed. Zuko will never know the pleasure of his seal form ever again. 

He’ll never dive under the waves and feel the saltwater on his skin. He’ll never be able to flap his tail or communicate without words. He’ll never be able to feel as free as he did in that body. He’ll forever be stuck here, as a human, unable to exist in the sea, forever trapped on land. 

The anger bubbles up and he squeezes his fists, mechanically stepping closer to the water. He wants to feel the waves, needs to step in and feel it washing over him. It calls out to him, and he can hear it inside of him, a tune with no words or notes. 

He steps closer once again, the waves frothing just a few feet ahead of him. Everything hurts, an ache deep inside of him that feels a thousand years old. He steps forwards and his feet enter the water. It splashes around his legs, getting his pants wet. The fabric stuck to his skin uncomfortably. It was cold, the water flowing around him, and it felt just like that, water. 

He wants to feel at home again, to enter the waves and never have to feel bad again. He has nothing to prove in the ocean, nothing to make up for. All he needs to do is swim and hunt and exist. He thinks it’s a beautiful thing, to just be able to exist. To never worry about who was waiting for you, who you needed to prove yourself to, who you needed to impress. 

In the ocean it was just you and the waves, and maybe your pack. Zuko didn’t have one anymore. He used to at one point, but they either hated him or were missing. He hopes Mother made her way out to the ocean. He hopes she lives there now, forever cruising along the waves just like she always wanted to. He wishes he could join her. 

He takes another step forwards. The familiarity hits him and he closes his eyes, letting himself just feel the water coming up to his knees. He wants more, needs to be further, to dive under the waves and feel the water surrounding him, to breathe it in and taste the salt. He wants to be there, needs to enter the water with a ferocity that drives into his chest. 

He thinks it would be easy, to just let go and drift away, the water surrounding him. Even without his pelt he thinks he’d feel at home, drifting among the waves, getting pulled further and further down. It would be so quiet; he wouldn’t even be able to think. He could just lie there, drifting among the water and never having to think about anything ever again. 

It would be so easy, he just needs to step forwards, to find the deeper water and walk right in. He could do it; he will do it-

“Zuko?” A voice called out from behind him and he startles, breaking free of whatever was calling to him and turning around. Sokka was standing at the top of the beach, watching him with wary eyes. “You good there buddy?”

Zuko says nothing, simply turning back around. He wants to keep going, to submit to the mercy of the waves. But he can’t, there’s still too much he needs to do. So as much as it pains him, he turns and walks back towards the Water Tribe boy. 

“Sit with me,” Sokka said, plopping down onto the ground and smacking the sand beside him with a wet thunk. Zuko hesitantly sits down, a couple feet away from him. 

Now that he’s away from the water, the ache had lessened a little bit, but not by much. 

“I thought you were going to go further,” Sokka said casually. “You were talking about how Selkie’s do that sometimes, wander into the ocean and never come out.” 

“I wouldn’t have,” He said, but it doesn’t sound convincing. “There’s still too much to do.” 

“And after?” Sokka asks. Zuko isn’t sure how to respond. 

They sit in silence for a long time, Sokka tapping his fingers and Zuko staring out into the ocean. 

“You are a Selkie huh?” Sokka said gently after a long moment. Zuko just nods. “Huh. I really did think they were just stories.” 

“Surprise,” He says dryly. “My Mother was one. Azula and I are the same.” 

“That’s so cool,” Sokka said, huffing out a laugh. “Who would have thought you’d have so many hidden layers? Next thing you know you’re going to tell me you’re a dragon too.” He bumped their shoulders together, and Zuko let out a laugh as well, startling himself.

“Dragons don’t come shaped like humans,” Zuko told him dryly. “At least not that I know of.” 

“Everyone’s worried about you,” Sokka tells him, dramatically changing the subject. “Toph especially. She freaked when you came over here instead of the house. Couldn’t feel you on the sand.”

“Sorry,” Zuko muttered, a bad taste in his mouth. He still isn’t used to people actually caring about him. 

“Don’t be,” Sokka shrugged. “Just don’t do that stuff okay?”

“What stuff?” Zuko asked, turning to face the other boy. 

“Look like you’re about to drown yourself in the ocean,” Sokka said without a hint of humor. “I’m not that good of a swimmer.” 

“Sorry,” Zuko said again. He doesn’t know what else to say. That was what he was going to do, wasn’t it? Just like the Selkies in the stories. Maybe being this close to the ocean wasn’t a good idea. 

“Where,” Sokka broke off, as if thinking hard about what he was asking. “Where is your pelt?” 

Zuko opens his mouth, but the words get caught in his throat. He almost chokes on it, the words so simple and yet carrying so much weight that it constantly ached.

“Gone,” Zuko finally chokes out, staring out into the sea. Burnt to a crisp, never to be seen again, never for him to hold. 

“I’m sorry,” Sokka said gently. “Everything you said back there, the stuff you described when your pelts destroyed, it was true wasn’t it?” Sokka drifts off, almost as if he was too scared to ask. 

“It’s was,” Zuko says, unable to look over at him. “My father, he um,” He trails off, unable to say it. It’s at the tip of his tongue, but he can’t force the words out. 

“If Aang doesn’t kill him I will,” Sokka declares, scooting closer and pressing their shoulders together. Zuko isn’t sure who it’s meant to comfort more. He leans into it anyways. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Not really,” Zuko admits. He never wants to talk again if he’s being honest. “But I think, I think I owe you guys some answers.”

“You owe us nothing,” Sokka says without missing a beat, making something inside Zuko melt. “But if you want to, we have no shortage of questions to ask. Or if you want to sleep we can sleep too. We’ll never mention it again if that’s what you want.” 

It’s tempting, Angi it’s so tempting. He wants to just sleep for a couple of years before the ache goes away and he can pretend to be okay again. But they were his friends, and he was trying his best to learn that they were allowed to worry about him. He was doing his best not to bury shit like this and let it fester like he used to.

“We can talk,” Zuko repeated. “But can we wait? Just a minute?”

He likes this, sitting on the beach next to Sokka, their shoulders pressed together. He thinks that he could spend forever here too, avoiding his responsibilities with his friend by his side. 

“Whatever you need Jerkbender,” Sokka said, pressing their shoulders together tighter. “We can sit here all night. I might fall asleep though. If I drool on you you’re not allowed to get mad at me.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Zuko said teasingly, causing Sokka to stick his tongue out at him. Zuko let out a small smile, and Sokka grinned at him. 

“Oh! By the way,” Sokka said, blinking as if just remembering something. “Sorry for implying that you’re a monster that drowns innocent virgins.”

Zuko lets out a startled laugh, the abruptness hitting him as he shook his head, staring down at the ground. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re ridiculous?” Zuko asked him. “Apology accepted, although no promises I won’t drag you into the ocean.”

“Hey!” Sokka protested. “I’m not a virgin!” 

“I do not need to know,” Zuko groaned, feeling his cheeks heat up. 

“No trust me man, I’m not!” Sokka’s laughing and Zuko moves away only to have Sokka follow him, slinging an arm around his shoulder. It feels nice. “I’m _getting_ it. Certified backbender here.” 

“Never talk to me again,” Zuko says, but a smile is pulling at his lips. He thinks he can get used to this, the whole having friend’s thing. 

“No can do,” Sokka says, pulling him closer. “You’re stuck with me. And with everyone else. We’ve adopted you. You’re officially our own angsty little dramatic arsonist.” 

Zuko snorted, but didn’t say anything in reply, settling down onto the sand and letting himself relax. 

“We should probably go back,” Zuko said after a minute. “They’ll be worried.” 

“But I’m so comfy,” Sokka sighed. “Who knew sand was so nice?” 

“You’ll be finding it in your clothes for weeks,” Zuko advised. “When I came here for our swims, my Mother would have to wash our clothes a million times to properly get the sand out.” 

Sokka reached down and carefully grabs Zuko’s hand, giving it a supportive squeeze. 

“You’ve never told me about your mom,” He says casually. 

“She left when I was ten,” Zuko admits. “It’s a very complicated story.” 

“Is she still alive?” Sokka asked, his voice the same understanding tone Katara’s was when they talked. 

“I don’t know,” Zuko admits. “Her pelt was gone, so I hope she made it out. And my Father said he banished her, so I hope that she’s out there somewhere, but I don’t know.” 

“We’ll find her if she is,” Sokka promised him, and Zuko smiles softly to himself. “We can go on another life-changing field trip! Hopefully without breaking into any prisons this time.”

Yeah, he thinks he can get used to this whole friend thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why, but I was super nervous to post this chapter lol. I hope you guys like it!!
> 
> And I'm not going to lie, this story really is just mostly an excuse for me to write big conversations with multiple characters, cause that's never been my strong point. Let me know how I did and I hope you've enjoyed!! Also, the next chapters going to focus on the Gaang and Zuko, so if there's anyone specific you want me to write more of let me know and I'll give it a shot :)
> 
> Also! I feel it's important to note that this story does have a happy ending!! Even if it's looking a little bleak as of this moment...

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a oneshot but by the time I finished it was like 20, 000 words so I broke it up into three chapters. The next ones are already written, I just need to edit them, so I hope you enjoy!! Comments and Kudos make my day :)


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